Memento Mori
by Pochettino
Summary: The issue of death was always perceived differently by every individuals. And when Republic of Indonesia's embodiment disappeared, there were 5 friends who were left in pieces and wondering if they would ever recover from the memories of her. A series of drabbles with a hint of NetherNesiain further chapters.


_**Memento Mori**_

_"Life is short, and shortly it will end  
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_Death comes quickly and respects no one,  
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_Death destroys everything and takes pity on no one.  
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_To death we are hastening, let us refrain from sinning."_

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_**Disclaimer: **Hetalia and its awesome characters are owned by the equally awesome Hidekazu  
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_**Summary**: The issue of death was always perceived differently by every individuals. And when Republic of Indonesia's embodiment disappeared, there were 5 friends who were left in pieces and wondering if they would ever recover from the memories of her.  
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_**Notes**: This series of drabbles were dedicated for she who had stuck by my side for 8 years of stupidity and turnabouts. For she who forever left my ears ringing with her excessive ranting of Netherlands. And for she, who I bet, was laughing her ass off reading this extra trollish cheesy dedication that I wrote for her._

_**Warnings**: This series centered in an OC of Indonesia (whom I portray as a woman), with death as its theme. Other OCs such as Singapore, Malaysia, and Timor Leste will also graced themselves in this fic. Some issues might be fiction, and might be based from a real life facts. Author has no intentions to offend anyone, so don't be offended lol. :) Dun forget to RnR as well!_

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_Prompt 1: In which goodbye was forced to be when one was in denial  
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The news hit him like a slap on his face in the midst of afternoon blues. Japanese words flashed on the monitor of his beloved PC as they twisted and wriggled into illegible curves in his brain, making he wondered if he was, for the moment, lost the ability to read. It took only several more minutes for him to finally compose himself and for the letters to imprint their meanings in his mind, but it took him much, much longer to digest it.

_She was gone._

The impact of the news didn't startle him. Indonesia was, after all, like a little sister for him. He had literally watched her grew right in front of his eyes, that little girl who loved to play in the yellow fields of rice, who had smiled at him despite suffering millions of scars from his cruel rule. _"It is not your fault that your emperor is a greedy old bastard, Kiku!"_ She said when he asked her why. _"Lars also used to be kind with me... Until his queen told him not to."_

Kiku still remembered how he thought it was sad that the little girl who seemed so innocent was forced to mature faster than she could tie her own hair. He thought that she was brave when she had opposed him and pointed her bamboo at his soldiers. But now he simply thought that it was not fair if she had to suffer all of those things and yet still had to disappear in the end as well.

He knew lots of nations who had survived dozens of wars and revolutions. He knew many who had suffered betrayals and changes but still held their beliefs strong. So why must it be her, who never even reach the age of a hundred, had to die first..?

On the second thought, did nations even die..?

The thought was so unsettling that he unintentionally slammed his laptop down. It was okay because he had another one that he used for work, but the worse thing is that he suddenly had the urge to destroy that one as well. It was his own way to vent his grieve; destroying the evidence that he had the computer to read that damned article and keep on reassuring himself that she was still here. It was stupid, and he knew very well that he couldn't keep on lying to himself like this. But it prolonged his ignorance for a while. And didn't they say that ignorance was bliss..?

Yes, they did. And dear lord, how disgustingly right they were.

That first night was spent with him tossing and turning in his bed without sleep to rest his soul. He tried to reassure himself that the first time was always the worse; that the next would be better and he would be okay. But then sleep never came on the next night. Or the next of that one. Or the next of the next of the next. It had turned into a routine that he found himself trapped in. Until the day when he could finally snap himself to reality.

Finally, after two weeks lacking sleep, he found a single white envelope delivered onto his desk. And when he read the contents, his entire world of lies seemed to crumble below his feet.

_It was an invitation to a small chapel in Singapore requesting for his attendance. It was finally the time to say the goodbye to her._

There was no cremation. Her body didn't even survived the coup d'etat; not when her national identity was literally ripped apart forcefully from her.

And It was finally on that night, when he was lying on his bed and finally accepted the bitter truth, did Kiku finally find his tears.

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_next prompt: In which goodbye was expected when one had accompanied the process all along_


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